


Working off the Edge

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 12:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: He was a shining point tugging at her body's compass. He made her want to do shameless, pleasurable things with him. Things that certainly did not belong on a beach surrounded by people.





	Working off the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> I've rated this explicit to be on the safe side, but I think it might be more of an M. I dunno.

Katara was frustrated. Everything in her body felt tense and like there were a hundred itches she couldn't scratch. The sand on Ember Island annoyed her. The half-naked men wandering around on the beach annoyed her. The fact Sokka was currently sucking Suki's face off in full view annoyed her. Everything was annoying. Even Aang and Toph, who were having a sand-sculpture competition and creating elaborate shapes with their bending, made her want to throw the sun umbrella at them. How dare they laugh and have such innocent fun right in front of her when she felt like she was going to explode and was just so, so—

"Oh," she breathed.

Zuko was approaching. He'd joined the half-naked crowd and though the sight of him shirtless still made her want to punch his lights out, she also couldn't help but appreciate the view. He'd looked nice when he was sixteen and training with Aang at his family's beach house. He was plain sex on legs at the age of twenty. Taller, broader in the chest and shoulders, but still lean and with a body that made her think of a blade: built for dexterity and sneaky strikes rather than the crushing muscle of a boulder.

And damn it if he hadn't slipped under her guard. That man was definitely sex on legs. Not that she often paired the word sex with Zuko. Because she didn't. It was just a figure of speech, obviously, and—and the heat was probably getting to her or something. Yeah.

Zuko stopped in front of her. His feet were bare and she found herself following his legs with her gaze, past the red swimwear that was too loose to tell her anything about his lower half (but that was okay because any guy with a chest like that had to have a nice butt, too). Not that she was thinking about Zuko's butt. Obviously.

She skittered her gaze up to his face. He smiled and held an ice cream out to her.

"Here," he said.

Katara stared at him dumbly for a moment. Because of the heat, of course. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the little upturned corner of his mouth made her stomach flutter or that his eyes were actually a really lovely golden colour. Zuko was her friend. Her very single, very attractive friend.

"Uh, Katara?" He waved the ice cream in front of her face. "You gonna take it or not? It's melting."

She blinked. His good eyebrow quirked. Warmth spread across her cheeks and she snatched the ice cream from him with a grunt that was meant to be a muffled thanks, but mostly just came out as a grunt. Zuko didn't seem to mind. He trundled over to give ice creams to Aang and Toph. Both paused in their sandbending competition to enjoy the frozen treats. Zuko soon came back and joined her under the umbrella. He licked at his own ice cream, leaning back on one palm. Katara found herself fixated. His mouth, the way he licked so carefully, just him in general.

"You should probably eat that faster."

She blinked. That taunting mouth was shaping words at her. Then she realised what he had said. Right. There was ice cream melting all over her hand. She began licking off the sticky trails.

"Um." Zuko cleared his throat. "There's some on your, um—" he gestured at her chest.

She glanced down and saw a few drops of yellow-swirled white had got on the part of her breasts not covered by her swimsuit top. Without thinking about it, Katara scooped up the melted trail with her finger and sucked it off. Zuko's good eye widened a fraction. He visibly swallowed.

"What?" she said.

He gave his head a small shake. "Nothing. You just seem to be enjoying it."

"I like mango ice cream."

"I can tell."

Her brow furrowed. Faint dustings of pink coloured his unscarred cheek. He was also avoiding meeting her gaze. Then she noticed his ice cream was busy dripping on him and a snort escaped her lips.

"Now who's the space head?" she teased. "Perhaps you should take your own advice."

Zuko flushed and quickly went about remedying this problem. In his haste, he got a smear of ice cream close to his lips. Katara pointed it out to him, but when the idiot kept missing the spot she just leaned over and wiped it off herself. Naturally, she sucked the ice cream off clean.

"Peach," she observed.

His eyes widened again, but that soon turned into a heated, intense look she'd only ever caught from him in glimpses. Her pulse quickened. It had finally occurred to her why he'd had such a reaction to her licking and sucking at ice cream. Hadn't she been just as turned on by him?

More importantly, if she spilt ice cream on other parts of his body, would he let her lick it off?

Katara shot back from him as if burned. Those were bad thoughts. Very bad thoughts. Zuko was her friend. Even if the images in her mind did leave her heart thumping. She coughed on nothing and went back to eating her ice cream. Zuko did the same.

"Hot today," he said after a moment.

She made a noncommittal sound. It was difficult to speak when their bodies were already communicating without words—little flutters, little stirrings of the blood, and all that pooling heat. He was a shining point tugging at her body's compass. He made her want to do shameless, pleasurable things with him. Things that certainly did not belong on a beach surrounded by people.

"You know, I think I might head back early," she said, standing up. Her cheeks were hot. "I don't feel so good."

Zuko was immediately on his feet. "Will you be okay on your own? I can walk back with you or—"

"I'll be fine." She held her hands out in a warding gesture, though it was more for his safety. Her self-control felt as fragile as a cobweb. "I think I just need some time alone."

"You sure?"

She nodded. "Definitely sure."

Zuko still looked worried, but he didn't argue with her. Katara made her apologies to the others and then wasted no time in escaping to the beach house. She shut herself in her room, thinking that the frustration and arousal would pass if she just isolated herself so she could calm down. It didn't. Her brain was stuck on Zuko. His stupid face, his stupid body, his stupid voice, his stupid everything. He had become her ultimate itch and it was torture not to scratch.

Katara closed her eyes as she lay on the bed. Her hand drifted down her stomach towards the waistband of her swimsuit bottoms. Not exactly what she wanted, but it was better than nothing.

The door opened.

She froze. Zuko was standing in the doorway with his mouth hanging wide open. She blinked. He blinked. They both glanced to where her hand had got inside her swimsuit bottoms. Heat flooded her face. Oh spirits. Oh spirits, oh spirits, oh spirits. This was mortifying.

Zuko's throat bobbed. His own face was very red. "I … should go. And should have knocked. Sorry."

"You don't have to."

Katara clamped her hand over her mouth, horrified that such words had escaped her. What was wrong with her? She was basically inviting him to watch or assist. Judging by the way the tips of his ears turned red, he had realised it as well.

"Ignore that," she blurted. "I'm not thinking straight and—"

"Would you let me?"

"What?"

Zuko gave her another of those intense, heated looks, though his face was still flushed. He stepped closer to the bed. "If I said I wanted to stay, would you let me?"

Fresh heat pooled between her legs. Oh. "U-um, I mean, I wouldn't say no."

Just the way he looked at her made her feel like she was melting.

Zuko licked his lips. "And if I wanted to kiss you?"

"That—that would be okay."

"And if I wanted to touch you?"

Her heart thundered in her breast. She bit her lip and nodded.

Zuko closed the door behind him and locked it—something she had forgotten to do. He moved to join her on the bed. Their eyes met and she inhaled, feeling like a mess of flutters of skittering heartbeats. The attraction between them was so strong it felt like energy was humming in the air. His fingers brushed her cheek. She exhaled shakily when his thumb caressed her bottom lip.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he murmured.

Then he kissed her. Katara sighed into his mouth and let her eyelashes flutter closed. He was fire and sweetness on her lips, on her tongue. She couldn't get enough, but then neither could he. It was as if all that wanting, all that tension between them had burst and now there was only the throbbing need to be closer, closer, closer.

Their kisses got more frantic, more demanding. Hands tugged off cloth and skin pressed against skin. His lips were everywhere—on her neck, her breasts, sneaking between her thighs. She gasped and fisted her hand in his hair, back arching under his ministrations. Oh, this was so much better than fantasies and secret touches. He licked and sucked at her most pleasurable points, teasing and intensifying and making her toes curl and her head spin with stars. It was too much. It was not enough.

"Zuko," she moaned, closing her eyes and writhing in the most exquisite of torture. "Yes, oh yes!"

The edge was coming, a snap of lightning and fire and bone-juddering release. Suddenly, she tensed and cried out. He didn't stop until she was slumped on the bed in a panting mess, body twitching with shocks and ripples.

Zuko raised his head from between her thighs to meet her gaze, licking his lips and looking far too pleased with himself. He knew exactly what he had done to her.

Katara sat up and took his face in her hands. "Don't look so smug," she murmured. "It's my turn now."

She kissed him hard and manoeuvred him onto his back. He didn't resist, letting his hands rest comfortably on her hips as she settled on his lap. His arousal was obvious. All the heat coming from him was like a fire licking at her own core, slickening her with desire all over again. She purposely rubbed herself against him, delighting in the soft sound he made and the way his fingers tightened on her skin. It was intoxicating that little sound. She wanted to hear it again and again. Wanted it to be louder.

Wanted him to cry out her name.

She trailed open-mouthed kisses down his body, relishing the chance to explore all that toned muscle and discover his most sensitive spots. "Pity we don't have any ice cream," she said, swirling her tongue against his skin.

He breathed out a laugh, which quickly turned into a half-strangled groan when her hand began to stroke and tease. All too soon he was crumbling to her touch. He twitched and jerked against her palm, one hand leaving her hip to fist against the sheet. A hissed curse escaped his lips.

Katara smiled and looked into his pleasure-fogged eyes. Then she simply bent down and began to tease him with her mouth instead. Up and down, up and down, licking and sucking and taking him in fully. It was a rhythm of jumping, quickening heartbeats and pulsing blood; of a fire building and building and building, pushing beyond stars and pleasure to mind-blowing, shattering bliss. His fingers tangled in her hair, body tensing, and then he just came apart before her in messy release. The sounds he made were near unintelligible—a jumble of sighs mixed with her name and groaned praises. Katara embraced it all.

"Fuck," was all he said when it was over.

She laughed and settled beside him on the bed, enjoying the view of him flushed and coming down from an orgasmic high. Maybe it was a good thing he'd walked in on her after all. She just hoped he'd be up for round two. No way was she finished with him yet.


End file.
